


Darkened Dreams

by sammichgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal, Bondage, Fingering, M/M, Wincest - Freeform, bareback, blindfold, daddycest (but not your typical variety – and remember, family does not end in blood), graphic non-con/dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 14:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammichgirl/pseuds/sammichgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean’s sick.  Sam’s gonna take care of him.  Something goes horribly wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkened Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Apparently I have nothing to do with the show or WB/CW beyond my imagination. Oh, to dream.
> 
> AN 1: Beware the warnings! I don’t want to give away everything in summary, so if you squick easily and/or want to confirm anything before reading, please message me and I’ll give you the complete heads up.
> 
> AN 2: Written for one of my bingo squares at spnpairingbingo at livejournal
> 
> AN 3: Thanks to my awesome beta, deansdirtybb for support and constant encouragement even when it’s not your cup of tea! Hugs to you, bb!

The fever wasn’t breaking.  In fact, Dean felt hotter than he had an hour ago.  Realizing ibuprofen wasn’t going to cut it; Sam resigned himself to needing to leave his brother’s side for a pretty serious supply run.  They were going to be here a few days, it looked like.  And the Nebraska weather in early February was not going to cooperate if Sam waited too much longer to head out, according to the evening news.

 

He hated leaving Dean’s side even for a moment.  He should have known Dean was ill when he became a little clingy – clingy for Dean, that is.  Dean had brushed it off as being horny, and Sam had been too distracted by passionate kisses to see that the heat Dean was giving off was not just the flame of desire.

 

He glanced down at Dean, who, even when sick refused to sleep in clothes, bundled up in the king sized bed they were sharing.  He was sweating, and his teeth were chattering.  His eyes bright with fever, he tried convincing Sam to stay and cuddle.  That should have been clue number one, honestly. 

 

“Dean, I promise I won’t be too long.  I’ve got to get you something stronger, and stock up on some juice and soups and a few other things.  Looks like its going to snow us in, so rest.  When I get back we can watch a movie, ok?”  Sam left Dean’s gun on the nightstand, and placed his favorite knife under the pillow.  He double checked the salt lines, threw on his big coat and dropped a soft kiss to his brother’s forehead.  Dean was mumbling, so Sam scribbled a quick note and left it under the gun, just in case.  Then he headed out to the Impala, and sighed as he got in.  He’d be gone a couple hours, at least.  The nearest town was a half hour away, and he needed to make sure he found a Walmart or something that had everything they needed in one place.  Driving off, he didn’t notice the clerk from reception walking slowly towards their end of the motel. 

 

************************************************************************  
The clerk figured the tall one would need to go out shortly after checking in.  The bow legged one was ill, eyes glazed over, not really paying attention when the tall one got their room.  A king.   Interesting. He’d looked over the bow legged one again, noticing his freckles and bright green eyes.  His mouth, damn, that mouth was made for loving a man.  He looked strong, but easily complied with the taller one’s directions, complacent and weak in his current state.

 

The clerk’s hand brushed against the taller one’s as he handed him the room key.  He waited a moment for the DNA information to download.  _Sam Winchester_.  Which meant…oh yes, this could be a lot of fun.  _Dean Winchester_.  Beautiful and feeling poorly.  And about to be ripe for the taking.

 

The clerk grinned as the brothers walked out.  Keeping a low profile right now was key to his kind.  As an Alpha he was being hunted more than his children.  But he was about to turn the hunters into the hunted.

 

************************************************************************

 

Dean was feeling hot again.  He threw the covers off the bed, immediately noticing the chill coming back.  He wanted Sam.  Sam would keep him warm, would make him feel good.  His mind felt muzzy with sleep wanting to win the battle, and Dean only wanted Sam to hold him.

 

He vaguely remembered Sam leaving, talking about the need for supplies. He glanced at the little clock across the room and saw it had only been maybe ten minutes since then.  Was that right?  Time was moving funny, it seemed.   

 

He knew he had the flu, or something like it.  Which meant he’d have to convince Sam to get in the damn bed and press up against him when he returned.  He tried to get up for a drink of water, but his body would just not cooperate.  He lagged back down against the mattress, closing his eyes and letting the fever pull him back into a fitful slumber.

 

************************************************************************

 

The clerk walked out of the reception area, turning on the _No Vacancy_ sign.  He locked the front office, and walked into his private quarters.  A few minutes later “Sam Winchester” walked out. 

 

He made his way across the lot, staying close to the building until he was sure the real Sam had indeed left and wasn’t coming back for something forgotten. 

 

He carried a small bag, plans for his _brother_ clear in his mind before the real Sam came back.  The funniest part was that it wouldn’t be against Dean’s own will, at first.  The rumors were true, so he could truly enjoy Dean before the mindfuck began. 

 

He slid his master key into the lock, stepping across the salt lines.  He had to play his part to perfection.  He _was_ Sam Winchester. 

 

************************************************************************

 

Dean barely heard the door opening, but knowing it was Sam, he just stayed tucked under the blankets.  He still felt cotton-headed, and every limb was sore and aching.  He gave a little moan, so Sam would know he was awake.

 

“Hey Dean, I’m back.  Looks like I didn’t beat the storm, so I turned around.  Sorry, man.  Just gonna have to make do with what we’ve got here.”  NotSam smirked, he had a perfect cover. Dean peeked his head out just a bit to make eye contact.  “S’ok, Sammy.  Come lay with me?”  And then he gave a pathetic cough.

 

“Sure Dean.  Just, let me get you some water, and let me get ready.”  NotSam had to make sure he stayed in character, and he had all of Sam’s memories and thought patterns at the ready.  He brought a small glass over to the nightstand for Dean, and started stripping.  Sam did have a nice body, he thought, and he couldn’t wait to touch Dean’s.  His eyes sparkled at the thought, which Dean caught.

 

“Sammy, please rub my back?  I promise no funny business.  I just, I need to feel you close, and I’m so sore.”  Dean gave a weak smile and held out his hand; risking the sudden goose bumps exposure to the air gave him.

 

“Dean, you better promise.  I don’t want to get sick or make you feel worse.  You take some more ibuprofen and drink some water, and I’ll rub you down until you fall asleep again, okay?”  NotSam walked around to the other side of the bed, where his small bag was on the floor.  He climbed under the covers, and spooned up against Dean.  _Mmmmm, nice._   The hunter’s body felt on fire with fever, but was hard and cut and peppered with freckles that he wanted to lick endlessly. 

 

NotSam began rubbing circles down Dean’s back, using deep pressure.  As the one hand worked the muscles along the spine, the other played along the nape of his neck, trailing softly.  He leaned in to press soft kisses there, and Dean sighed in contentment.  NotSam continued down Dean’s body, alternating deep pressure massage and then light feathery almost licked kisses.  He smiled wickedly as he felt Dean sink into the bed, totally pliable and at ease.

 

When Dean was almost completely asleep, NotSam reached over to the side of the bed into his bag, pulling out the rope lengths he had cut.  He slowly eased one arm up to the headboard and softly but securely tied Dean’s wrist to it.  Dean smiled and mumbled something that sounded like, “way too tired, Sam,” but he offered no resistance.  NotSam shushed him, whispering into his ear that he was going to make sure Dean felt good, that he was taking care of him. 

 

NotSam finished tying Dean’s other wrist and moved to tying down his ankles.  Now for the fun.  He slid up the bed, kissing along Dean’s thighs.  He had managed not to touch the hunter’s cock in all his ministrations, but now it beckoned him.  Hard and leaking just a small bead of pre-cum, it lay erect against Dean’s groin.  NotSam licked it from root to tip, gathering the salty flavor and smacking his lips.  Tasty indeed.   But NotSam wanted to taste a bit more of Dean, and ducked down to find the rosy pucker.  He licked and Dean whimpered.  Yeah, Dean loved getting fucked by his baby brother.  Sensory images flooded NotSam’s mind, all Dean’s favorite spots and triggers. 

 

Except Dean wasn’t going to get fucked by his Sam.  No, tonight Dean was going to be betrayed by someone else in his family.  Knowing John Winchester was dead narrowed that field down immensely – but wouldn’t _that_ have been fun.  At least, Sam’s mind sure thought so.  _Very interesting_ indeed, the Winchester family.

 

An evil grin broke out as he hit the right target in Sam’s mind – one that would thoroughly disgust them both come morning.  And it would be easy, because he’d run into that hunter before.  The morphing would be a piece of cake, and being the Alpha, not messy at all.  That would ensure Dean’s confusion and keep him thinking he was just delirious.

 

He prepped Dean with lube and gentle fingers, wanting to rush and be a bit more aggressive, but biding his time yet.  The reveal couldn’t come at the start, no, Dean needed to know it was his Sam up until the perfect point.  And Dean was so very easy to work with like this.  He literally lay there and took everything NotSam gave him, and finally started rocking into the fingers opening him up.  NotSam made sweet little sounds to reassure Dean, hitting his prostate every third or fourth pass, kissing along his stomach and licking the pearly fluid Dean kept leaking. 

 

Finally, even in his febrile state, Dean started begging.  It wasn’t as grand as it could have been, but NotSam understood – he was sick, after all.  Dean was chasing release, and that was good enough.  Hearing Dean beg to be fucked thrilled NotSam to no end. 

 

He slowly mounted Dean, and captured his very pretty, soft, plush pink lips in a searing kiss while pushing in.  Dean moaned softly, and NotSam placed his hands on Dean’s hips, working his way in, slowly, so as not to break the tender spell he’d set up.  Once he was fully seated, Dean’s eyes tried to open, he tried to keep them open, and they fluttered weakly.  NotSam smiled, letting the dimples fully come out.  Dean smiled in return, and whispered, “I love you,” as he rocked his hips up to meet the slow thrusts.

 

Ah, that was it; the moment Dean professed his love. That was it.  NotSam’s features turned cold and hard and he suddenly slammed into Dean violently, breaking the loving backdrop he’d created.  Dean cried out and his eyes flew open wide.  Suddenly a blindfold was placed around his head.

 

“Sam?”

 

“Shut up, Dean.  No more talking.  You just take what I’m giving.”

 

But that wasn’t his Sam.  No.  No, he must still be asleep and having a vivid nightmare.  That voice, that wasn’t his little brother. 

 

Dean closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down.  Fever can make you hallucinate, he knew that.  And he’d been fighting something for days now, not telling Sam until he couldn’t hide it anymore.  Maybe he was just far gone.  Yeah, that would explain-

 

And another powerful thrust into him ripped a scream out of his lungs.  This man was jack hammering him, and he felt a slap across his face as he continued to cry out. 

 

“Shut up, boy.  Ain’t no need to cry.  Gonna teach you something your daddy never did.”

 

It was not possible.  There was no way. 

 

“You know you were always my favorite, Dean.  Strong and loyal and always cleaning up after your dad and being the big hero to your little brother.  You were too pretty to be a hunter.  I’m surprised you haven’t been made a hunter’s bitch for sharing yet.  Your daddy should have taught you these things.  But I’m here now, and I’ll teach you.  You and Sam already fuck each other; let’s just keep it in the family, shall we?”

 

Dean felt nauseous.  He felt simultaneously exhausted yet wide awake, and was completely restrained.  How did this happen?  Was he hallucinating?  Wasn’t Sam just here?  Was Sam ok? 

 

“Damn, boy, but you are tight and hot.  I bet Sammy loves putting his claim on you, doesn’t he?”

 

Dean could only reply with a litany of “No, no, no,” tears making their way from under the blindfold. 

 

“I’m close, Dean.  You wanna suck me down or does your hot little hole wanna feel me drip out later?”

 

Dean bucked his hips, waves of shame rushing through his body.  His prostate kept getting nailed, and his cock was traitorous, leaking and jerking all across his groin.  He could feel the draw of his balls, he knew he was going to come and he did not want to.  Not from this.  Did not want to get any pleasure from this, but it was too late to tell his body, as the unwanted orgasm washed disgustingly over him.  He came with a broken sob, spurting all over himself, feeling come hit his face and arms and chest.

 

“Yeah, boy, you look good covered in come.  I wish I had more time to paint you right.  But I think filling you up is the ticket.  We want Sammy to know what a good little family whore you are. “

 

Dean was openly crying now, his only words, a repeated, “No, please no.”

 

“It’s ok, son.  Sam has had wicked fantasies about your dad for years.  Bet you didn't know that.  He didn’t get his; but I figure you should know that at least one of your fathers truly loved you, and you being my favorite, are the winner.”  And with that, Dean felt the hot wet shooting up deep inside him, pulse after sickening pulse. 

 

“Please.”  Dean was broken.  He felt like this was a lucid dream, and was praying for it to end.  His head hurt, his eyes hurt.  He was so tired and achy, and he was pretty sure his fever was still high.

 

“Please what, boy?  I’m spent.  I know you want more, cockslut, but I ain’t got no more for you right now, sorry to say. “

 

Dean felt the blindfold come off and he blinked once, twice, and then fixed his gaze on the man in front of him.  Shame flooded him again as the man adjusted his ballcap.

 

“We gotta clean you up, boy.  Wanna make sure what Sam sees from your pretty wet hole is nothing but my spunk.”  And the man leaned down over Dean again and began licking his cock clean, licking around his groin – leaving him dripping and come spattered except around his own cock.  Which started to fatten up again with the licking and gentle sucking action, much to Dean’s horrified senses.  Once he was hard and leaking just a bit again, the man stopped.  Dean’s ass was a trickling mess, and he made a devastatingly beautiful and used picture.

 

The man tipped his cap to Dean, “I gotta go now boy.  You better get some rest, son.  Sam’ll be back soon.”  And the man turned off all the lights, walked out, and left Dean tied up and covered in disgrace.

 

Dean closed his eyes, telling himself it was just a dream.  A very bad dream and he’d be ok when he woke up.  His Sam would be there, and he would make it right.

 

************************************************************************

 

Sam pulled into the parking lot and quickly got out.  The trip had taken longer than he thought, the roads already icing over on the way back.  He gathered up the many bags and walked to the room door, fumbling for his key.  As he was juggling the bags, the reception clerk walked by.

 

“Sir, did you need any help?” 

 

“Ah yeah, can you hold these bags while I open my door?  I’d appreciate it.”

 

“Sure thing, buddy.“  And he smiled wide as he took the bags so Sam could open the door.  He couldn’t wait for the reaction once Sam was inside.

 

Unlocking the door and quietly turning the handle, sure his brother was asleep; Sam retrieved the bags and thanked the clerk.  He crossed the room quietly, placing the bags on the small table.  Turning around, he flipped on a small light.

 

The sight before him left him in shock.  Dean was tied up, naked, covered in come.  What the hell?

 

“Dean!”  Sam shouted at his brother, trying to wake him up as he quickly used the knife under the pillow to cut him free from the rope ties.  “Dean, talk to me, who did this to you?

 

Dean’s eyes slowly opened and he looked at Sam, wary…was that really Sam?

 

“Dean, tell me who did this to you.”  Sam was hyperventilating.  Who had done this to his brother?

 

Dean looked down, curled himself into a ball, softly crying. 

 

“Dean, tell me.  How did this happen?  Who was it?”  Sam was frantic, and he wrapped his arms around Dean gently, and started rocking him.

 

Dean looked up again at his brother, choking out the response, “It really happened?  I…I don’t know.  It was you but then.  Then…Sammy, then it was Bobby…it was Bobby.”

 

Bobby?  Dean thought Sam had – and then _BOBBY_?  Sam released Dean and quickly checked the salt lines.  Unbroken.  But someone had done this, someone who could if not possess, then look like.  _Shapeshifter_.  But there was no residual ooey gooey matter that shifters left behind.  Which meant…the Alpha. 

 

Sam crawled into the bed behind his brother and pulled him into his arms.  Dean shivered, shuddered, and whimpered.  Sam felt something inside him break.  Crowley wasn’t getting this Alpha.  No.  This one was Sam’s alone.

 

 

 

 


End file.
